psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

[hedgemaze]

THE AUBEL ESTATE is located in Derbyshire, England, a stately old home reminiscent of centuries long past. Long ago, it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned until previous generations of the Aubel family purchased the land for themselves, having found their fortunes in matters of real estate. Since that time, the outside has been restored and the inside has been renovated at least three times. Four, if you ask the uncle who remembers the one summer where the chandelier fell from the dining hall, taking a large portion of the ceiling with it. How embarrassing, if such a thing is true.

In its present state, it straddles the line between the old and new. The large, prominent rooms are ostentatious as they are filled to the brim with austere English culture; the smaller quarters, traditionally used by the servants and staff, are far more modest, and over time have allowed the tendrils of modernity to creep in as a result. Regardless, the home is impressive no matter how you look at it, and there are few who do not cast an envious glance at the estate as they pass by Derbyshire on their way to town, or perhaps northwest to Manchester, if they've even farther to go.

PHILIP AND JAMES AUBEL, father and son respectively, are the owners of the home, though only the father remains for any extended period of time. And even then, he only stays perhaps one or two seasons at a time, until he returns to his home in London, spending one or two seasons there, before returning again, living out his life of retirement to the fullest. James visits nearly every week (driving in from Manchester, and back) in the Spring, until the first freeze of Winter, when nothing will grow. Though they have a staff of two dozen -- give or take, depending upon the time of year -- taking care of the estate and its grounds, James is more diligent about keeping up appearances of the house, showing a special interest in maintaining the complex hedge maze on the land directly behind them. Only he keeps access to its center, a literal walled garden of seasonal flora.

AS RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WOULD HAVE IT, James has been drawn into an arranged marriage by his father and an old business acquaintance. She is scheduled for an extended visit soon, and the staff have done a meticulous job of preparing the hall for her arrival -- and the rest of the rooms, as well, if she is expected to make her living here permanent, one day. Today, the weather is clear and the help is eager to aid her in unpacking. The grounds are green and the family dog, an old greyhound with cataracts in one eye, bounds up to her with a slow wagging tail. The father will greet her, of course, with all the usual formalities, and though he doesn't know her all that well at all, she at least seems nice enough. He disappears soon after, leaving her to her own devices as she sees fit. James himself is nowhere to be found.

Somewhere, sooner rather than later, a collision course of first impressions will take place.

----------

D I R E C T O R Y;

➤ shitpost.
➤ first impressions.
➤ diamonds.
➤ text her, texter.
➤ saviour.
➤ flirt.
➤ closer.
➤ cross-examine.
➤ PARTY CRASHERS.
✶ elle + devon
✶ elle + corvus
✶ ian + james + corvus
✶ devon + james
➤ alien abduction.
➤ sleep now.
➤ bathe.
➤ remember.
➤ drink.
➤ welcome home.

Comments

[winterheart]

Huh. Yeah, kind of right?

[She had been mostly concerned about its construction, brainstorming how the pieces were put together and what was used to make them stick in there.]

But if I make my own boxes, I think I can make something beautiful. Although I could make something intentionally creepy at first. That would be a fun challenge.

Oh, I should stock up on some knick knacks so that I can have the supplies to get ideas to begin with. First off... Oh! Old dictionaries!

[And she rushes to the back of the store of used books, stepping on the foot ladder to reach for an aged and out of date dictionary, an old entomological book, and then she finds a box of old beads and buttons of various sizes when she moves to the bottom, scanning all the items before settling on those. It's a weird burst of energy from her, but she's just full of life being excited by the most mundane things, being able to see their potential.]

[hedgemaze]

[And James blinks as she rushes off to find herself some old books, not quite expecting the sudden burst of energy. She was very passionate about her art, wasn’t she? He exhales with a smile, finding it endearing when she was like this. So caught up and focused on the potential of everyday things. Seeing the best in the old and the worn.

The thrift store, he thinks, was more of an antique shop if he really looked around. He lets Devon wander off wherever she likes — it wasn’t a very large shop, though it was filled to the brim with eclectic items. He passes down a row, and something catches his eye. Someone has put up a small collection framed “art”, though within the glass frames were various samples of nature — butterflies, pressed flowers, small pieces of tree trunks showing the many rings within, and even one that is a little less aesthetically pleasing.

It gives him pause, eyes lingering on it for a moment longer than the rest, before he looks over at where Devon is to see what she’s doing.]

Finding what you need?

[winterheart]

Yup! I'm almost done here too.

[She's found a steal, in the form of two yards of indigo shibori patterned cloth and she makes her way back to James, her tote bag satisfyingly plump despite this being their first stop.]

What'cha looking at? Whoa... [The centipede catches her attention too and she stares at it, fascinated.]

Imagine that being framed on the walls.

[hedgemaze]

[He frowns, not looking particularly fond of the idea.]

I’d rather not.

[Oddly eager to shift the focus, he eyes Devon’s tote bag.]

Already full? That didn’t take very long. What did you get?

[winterheart]

Oh? Well...

[She opens up her bag to point to what she's going to take away.]

Got a box full of beads and buttons, 2 yards of this indigo on really good cotton-- I can't believe they're selling it this cheap, it's beautiful--, these books that I'm gonna tear up most likely... Oh.

[Small and then she takes out...]

Two broken music boxes.

[hedgemaze]

Broken?

[He's about to ask what use are broken music boxes unless she plans on fixing-]

Ah, you... plan on fixing them up?

[winterheart]

Oh, you caught on real quick!

[She beams at him.]

Yeah, it'll take some tinkering and a bit of a "push", but I bet I can make them work again. And after a bit of a paint job and some mild sanding, they'll be good as new.

[hedgemaze]

A push? [He gives her a knowing look, having a feeling she knows exactly what kind of push she’s talking about.] Right.

Any idea what songs they'll play once you’ve got them working properly? Either way, you’ll have to let me listen when you’re done.

[winterheart]

No idea. It could play Tchaikovsky for all we know. Worst case scenario, it's just an infant lullaby.

And if I get them fixed during the week, I'll send you a video clip of the sounds it makes.

[She turns one box around falling into a contemplative state.]

... I'll probably give one to Lucy if it turns out well enough. She loves music boxes.

[hedgemaze]

[He hesitates, unsure what to say; he can feel her musings, how her manner has become more subdued after mentioning Lucy.]

You sound hesitant. You're afraid she won't accept it?

[A stab in the dark for him, but he may as well ask.]

[winterheart]

Wellllll.

[She makes some gestures with her hands and says in a very American-like and flippant manner.]

She didn't answer my messages for a year so.

I'm being optimistic and saying 50-50, she'll take the gift, 50-50 she might just throw it away.

[hedgemaze]

[He knits his brows together in consideration at that.]

Then maybe you shouldn't bother? If there's a chance she won't appreciate the work you've put into it, then why waste the time?

[Missing the point again, it appears.]

[winterheart]

... Look.

[She could go on about how James doesn't understand people as well as he thinks, about how skewed his emotions seem to be in a vaguely unsettling way. She could point blank ask him if he's an alien.

Instead Devon holds up her broken music box. ]

You see this? Most people wouldn't bother to look at this box and figure it can be repaired. Hell, even with me, it's not a guarantee.

But because there is a chance that it can be fixed, that means that I keep trying. If I don't it's like I never wanted it in the first place.

[hedgemaze]

[At least he can see where she's taking this. Credit where credit's due.]

And if it still can't be fixed? Wouldn't that be painful for you?

[winterheart]

[Devon shrugs. ]

I'm optimistic. And if I'm in pain, I'll know when to move on. Right now, I know that I can't give up.

[hedgemaze]

...I see.

[It's odd. He can understand, and yet a part of him screams that it's foolish. He tried helping someone, a long time ago, to ease the pain. In the end, was it worth it? Or was he setting himself and others up for more sorrow when all was said and done?]

Then by all means, don't let me stop you. If you're finished here, we can go ahead and move on. We've still the whole day.

[winterheart]

True, we gotta get the boring part over with right?

[She grins and uses her free hand to take his. ]

Let's go!

[hedgemaze]

[Whoop, and there she goes, grabbing his hand and playfully guiding him along. He's surprised at first as they go to pay, but he doesn't let go. He grins and gives her hand the smallest of squeezes, just because he can.]

You really are excited about going out, aren't you?

[winterheart]

More than I thought I'd be.

You?

[hedgemaze]

It's all right, I guess.

[That would be him teasing again.]

[winterheart]

We better fix that then.

[Devon squeezes his hand back. She's still wearing her engagement ring and the band presses against his palm. ]

We got a day to ourselves after all.

[hedgemaze]

[He notices the engagement ring, and a part of him feels an embarrassingly childlike sense of glee to know that she wears it of her own accord. He has his wedding band on, as well, of course -- it's on his left hand, as expected, and for some reason he's very aware of its presence on his finger, more so than before.

Is this what newly-weds are like, he wonders? Not that they were wed yet, but surely this level of energy is the same as what he reads in his books, what he sees in movies and television?

Ah, he has to tell himself to calm down a bit. Regain his composure.]

Well, what did you want to do next, then? I figured you'd want to pick out more clothes for yourself. Maybe a nice dress for the engagement party?

1/2

[winterheart]

Picking out clothes shouldn't take me long. A dress sounds...

[winterheart]

Wait.

Engagement party??

[hedgemaze]

Yes. The engagement party.

[The confusion is practically radiating off of her, and James picks up on it so very easily. She didn’t know?]

I figured my father would have mentioned it to you. We’re going to be hosting the party a month from now — enough time to get all your invites out to people you’d like to attend, friends and family alike. We have the staff already making plans and preparations for it.

[Which means it’s going to be a very Big Event.]